


Near Death Experience Causes A Confession

by Prettyraddawg



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aftercare (sort of), Car Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Incest, Just some cuddles, Light Bondage, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Rick tries to avoid his feelings, Sex in Space, The bondage is just Rick using his belt to tie Morty's hands, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettyraddawg/pseuds/Prettyraddawg
Summary: Secret Santa Fic for @FridaRush2 on Twitter.Perhaps the near-death experience was leaving Morty feeling bold, maybe his imminent death was leaving him afraid of his dark secret going unheard. Either way, he was about to do something very stupid.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Near Death Experience Causes A Confession

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely Frida Rush on Twitter, I hope you enjoy!

Morty lets out a shaky breath. His clothes are singed in some places, small cuts and scrapes litter his skin. His heart is racing, leftover adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, sucking in the manufactured air of the ship. He opens his eyes and stares into the infinity of space. His eyes dart to the side, searching for his savior. The man who always gets him into and out of trouble. His gaze settles on Rick, whose hands grip the steering wheel of the ship so tightly that his knuckles are white.

The man is stressed, that much is obvious. Their little adventure had gone awry, and there was nothing Rick hated more than having his plans fucked up. He was a control freak, his god complex telling him that he can do anything. He hated being shown that he was wrong. Especially in front of his young and impressionable grandson.

Morty stares at him in wonder. His eyes following the harsh lines around his elder's frown. The boy's gaze begins drifting down his grandfather's tense jaw, down his throat, his chest, his body, all sharp angles and tough in a way you wouldn't expect of someone his age. Rick was nothing like you would expect, he was constantly exceeding.

Perhaps the near-death experience was leaving Morty feeling bold, maybe his imminent death was leaving him afraid of his dark secret going unheard. Either way, he was about to do something  _ very  _ stupid.

"Rick? Can we- can we not go home just yet?"

Rick's head whips to look at his companion as though shocked to hear him speaking. His eyes narrow with annoyance.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he says dismissively, waving Morty off with his tone.

Morty swallows, allowing his grandfather's attitude to roll off his back. He steels his nerves, swallowing despite the dryness in his mouth. He sits up, no longer looking into the galaxy, whichever galaxy they might be in. He instead looks fully at Rick.

"Rick? Can I- can I talk to y-y-you?"

"If you're gonna bitch at me for almost getting us killed," he reaches into his lab coat for his flask, taking a generous pull from it, "th-th-the answer is no, you can't."

"N-no, it's not about that…" 

Morty feels his confidence waning, exiting him with the excess of adrenaline. Rick looks at him, exasperated and maybe a bit curious. Usually Morty would never pass up the opportunity to berate him for being crazy and uncaring.

"Well then, spit it out."

The boy turns away, his gaze dropping to his lap, his hands toying with the hem of his shirt. He opens his mouth and closes it a couple of times, gaping his mouth like a fish. His eyebrows knit together with anxiety. Rick takes the opportunity to look his grandson over, his own anxieties rising, his companion's odd behavior setting him on edge.

Morty fleetingly glances at Rick and upon finding him staring, he quickly reverts his eyes to his lap.

"I- shit, okay, I- um, I like you. God, that sounds dumb."

The boy's cheeks turn red, and he brings his hands up to cover his face. He lets out a sound between a whimper and irritated groan.

"Y-y-you  _ like _ me? The hell is that supposed to mean?" But of course Rick knows what that means. He isn't an idiot. His frown deepens and he side-eyes his grandson.

Morty's hands don't leave his face, his voice coming out muffled. "Jesus- Jesus Christ, do I really have to say it? I'm  _ attracted  _ to y-y-you. Fuck. What am I doing?" 

The boy's words are thick with emotion and Rick grips the wheel tighter.

"Yeah, that's a good question. What the  _ fuck  _ are you doing? I mean, what the  _ fuck _ . That's some seriously fucked up shit."

Tears leak between Morty's fingers. When he speaks again his voice is strangled, he's choking on his feelings.

"Do you honestly think I don't  _ know that _ ? Do you think I don't  _ understand  _ how  _ fucked up I am _ ? I know I'm an  _ idiot _ , but I'm not  _ delusional _ ."

The boy's shoulders sag, and he curls into himself. Guilt racks through Rick's body. He frowns deeply at the boy sitting next to him. 

"Morty…" he begins, his voice sad and strained, "y-y-you don't know what you're talking about. Y-y-you don't  _ like _ me, it's just your hormones fucking with your head. It'll pass, just give it some time, you'll see, things will go back to how they were."

Even as Rick says it, he feels his heart, the one he thought was long dead, give a painful jump. He finds himself aching to be told that he's wrong. Rick always knew he was depraved, but damn, this is bad, even for him. He puts the ship on auto, unable to focus on flying. He stares at Morty's shaking frame. He fights the urge to reach out and run a hand over the boys back. 

"It's not passing, Rick, I've been  _ waiting  _ for it to go away for  _ months  _ but it's just getting  _ worse _ ."

"Morty… this is wrong. This is really, really wrong-"

" _ Save it, Rick _ ."

"Morty…"

"I'm not stupid, Rick… I know that you're never gonna, I don't know, like me back- feel the same way or whatever. If you- if you gotta leave, if you can't deal with this, I get it, ya' know? You don't have to-" he chokes on his tears, "I won't be mad if you leave. I get it…"

Rick looks at Morty's broken state. He debates with himself, knows that he's wrong for this, that he's going to hurt the boy, knows that what he's about to do will destroy them both. But he can't stop.

"Morty. Look at me." His words are gentle yet commanding. Morty shakes.

"Please don't make me," he begs weakly.

"Look at me, Morty," he says softly, barely audible over Morty's sniffles.

After a moment's hesitation, the younger of the two removes his hands from his face, and slowly turns his head to meet his grandfather's eyes. The boy looks broken and devastated, his face red and wet with tears. Rick looks at him, his hand reaching out to cup his cheek.

"You're so fucking  _ stupid _ ."

Before Morty can decipher what he means, Rick is closing the distance, his lips finding Morty's. His tongue brushes those soft, pink lips, salty with tears. Morty's eyes close, and he cries into the kiss, his heart getting whiplash from the devastating low to this euphoric high. 

Morty parts his mouth, allowing Rick's tongue to explore him with little resistance. He moans and whimpers and leans into Rick, wishing they could be closer, wishing he could feel Rick's body against his own. Rick seems to agree with this unspoken sentiment, pulling Morty into his arms and maneuvering the two to the back seat.

Rick lays Morty down gently, much more gentle than Morty would have expected. Rick crawls on top of the smaller boy, their lips locking once more. Rick's hands roam over the younger's body, up and under his tattered yellow shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers brushing against his nipples. The boy murmurs in appreciation, the sensitive buds parking to attention and his confined member twitching with interest.

"Fuck, yeah, that's it baby, you sound so good," Rick groans, removing his lips from the teen's, trailing sloppy kisses down the boys jaw, working his way down his throat, nipping and sucking.

The adolescent lets out a shameful moan, his hand then slapping over his mouth to prevent further embarrassment. Rick tsks and leans back, staring down at his underage grandson, red-faced and shining with sweat. His hardened dick is clearly visible through his blue jeans, making the elder grin.

Rick's hands reach for his belt, and Morty's crystal blue eyes, a replica of Rick's, widen comically. Rick only chuckles in that smug, self-assured way that always makes Morty's cock throb. Rick undoes the buckle with a click of metal on metal, before tugging the leather through his belt loops.

Instead of tossing the belt aside like Morty had expected, he holds it firmly in one hand, the other hand grabbing both wrists and holding them together above his head. He loops the belt around Morty's wrist, cinching it tightly and wrapping the excess around the door handle, looping it back through between his hands, tugging it before making a couple more loops until satisfied with its security. 

"I-i-is this alright?" Rick asks, looking down at the youth, suddenly worried that he may have crossed a line.

Morty nods quickly, his breathing heavy and his eyes clouded with desire. Rick nods and ducks back down, mouthing at the nape of Morty's neck, one hand slipping under his shirt once more, the other reaching down to grope the boy's erection through his jeans. Morty, bites his lip hard, trying desperately to keep quiet, embarrassed of the lewd noises that threaten to leave him. Rick tsks again, groping the boy harder, desperate to pull those sounds out of the boy's pretty pink mouth. Finally, a desperate moan slips out, and Rick groans in response.

"There we go, just like that, baby, so fucking  _ good _ ," he tweaks the boy's sensitive nipples which illicits another mewl. Rick pushes the boy's shirt up, over his head and up his arms where it is left, unable to go any further due to his restrained hands.

Rick begins to lave at the newly exposed skin, taking careful note of the teen's collarbones, nipples, ribs, and his navel. While his mouth expertly works the younger's abdomen, his deft hands unbutton and unzip Morty's pants. The boy takes the hint and raises his hips so that Rick can slide his pants and underwear down. Once the offending garments reach the boy's knees, Rick leaves him to finish the job, so the boy hastily kicks the clothes off.

Rick sits back again, drinking in the sight of his grandson. His body is flushed, hickeys beginning to blossom on his skin, the bruise-like purples looking beautiful next to the blood-red scrapes from their adventure. The smaller one's prick stands at attention, already leaking precum. Rick gets himself an eyeful, committing it to memory, quite literally; he makes sure his cybernetic eye captures a picture. 

Rick's hands rest on the boy's chest, palms flat and fingers splayed. He runs his hands down, feeling the ridges of the boy's prominent ribcage. 

"Rick," the word is no more than a shuddering exhale, but it's laced intricately with desire and fondness.

Rick's dick twitches and his heart lurches uncomfortably. In an effort to set aside uncomfortable  _ emotions _ , Rick leans down, his face millimeters from Morty's leaking prick. 

Rick raises his eyes, looking up at Morty through pale eyelashes. His heart gives another lurch when he makes eye contact with the red faced boy. Slowly, without breaking the gaze between them, Rick takes Morty's dick into his mouth. His lips pull into a slight grin when the boy's eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a pleased moan.

The elder hollows his cheeks, swirls his tongue, and bobs his head, driving the younger absolutely wild. Rick abuses his years of experience, his decades of giving head, to pleasure the boy. He watches with amusement as Morty tugs uselessly at his bonds.

"Rick-  _ oooh, Rick _ \- please, please, Rick-  _ oh my god _ \- Rick! So  _ good _ !"

Rick chuckles around the hot weight in his mouth, which twitches in response. The boy above him whines, his back arching and his hips lifting off of the seat.

"Oh my  _ god _ , I'm gonna-"

The elder slides off of Morty's hardened arousal, now slick with spit and precum. The boy groans in desperation, his hips thrusting up in search of release.

"Ah, ah, ah,  _ Morty _ . Can't have you blowin' your load so soon, I wanna make this last, baby."

"Rick," he mewls pathetically in response, "please let me cum, I wanna cum for you, please Rick, make me cum-"

Morty's distressed pleas ring in Rick's ears, making his dick pulse. He lets out a strangled groan.

_ "How sick am I,"  _ he thinks,  _ "that the thing that's turned me on the most in  _ years  _ is my teenage grandson?" _

The old man grins lecherously at the teen, and begins to remove his clothes, beginning with his shirts. The blue sweater comes off with relative ease, but his wife-beater clings to his torso from a layer of sweat. Morty begins to quiver with untamed excitement, his wrist still tugging against the leather that keeps them in place.

It takes all of Rick's willpower to keep from ripping his own pants off and ravaging the boy. He unbuttons his khakis then tugs the zipper down, the sound impossibly loud and mingling beautifully with the whines and desperate sounds of the bound boy. 

The elder slides the tan fabric down slowly, so slowly, teasing his counterpart. Eventually, the garment is tossed aside, leaving the man in only his boxers, leaving little to the boy's imagination. He stills upon seeing the full size of his elder's member, briefly wondering if this was a bad idea, because surely something so  _ big _ wouldn't be able to fit. The only thing he'd previously managed was two of skinny, little fingers.

Finally, Rick removes the last of his clothes, and despite Morty's fears, he can't help but to take in every inch of his grandfather's body. His eyes hold reverence, bordering on worship, and Rick's chest thumps. His stomach twists and his face reddens. Desperate to once more bury his feelings, he reaches underneath the seat and retrieves a bottle of lube.

Morty raises a questioning eyebrow, his eyes running from the bottle to Rick's face. The man shrugs.

"Y-you never know when you might need it."

Morty rolls his eyes, but his body hardly portrays annoyance. Rick's eyes graze over the boy's skin, his body exposed and wanting. Rick feels the urge to claim every inch of the boy, to breathe praises into the tender flesh, to spend  _ hours _ taking the boy apart, and reconstructing him. Instead he generously coats his fingers in the cool lubricant, his hand automatically finding Morty's entrance.

The teen flinches away from the cold sensation and from apprehension. Rick coos softly to him.

"It's okay, baby, Granpa Rick's gonna take  _ real  _ good care of you."

"Uh- umm, Rick? I-I've never, umm, I haven't-"

"I'm not dumb, Morty, I know you're a virgin-"

"I've never really done anything! Like this, I mean! Like, I, umm- I've only fingered myself  _ once _ , barely, that's it!"

This only causes Rick to pause, before his grin widens, showing yellowed teeth. "Damn… you're  _ really  _ a virgin." Morty makes an uncomfortable hum of agreement. Rick leans over Morty, his lips ghosting the shell of the boy's ear. "That's pretty hot, babe," he murmurs huskily. 

Morty lets out a pitiful moan, basking in the praise of his grandfather. He arches into the larger body, pressing himself into the firm heat of his affections.

"Don't worry, Morty, I'll make you feel  _ good _ ."

The boy whines in response to the gruff voice, and sucks in a sharp breath when he feels the fingers at his rim again. He does his best not to flinch, but he feels his muscles tighten. The elder coos sweetly to his grandson, kissing his neck and using his free hand to gently massage the boy's tightened abdomen. Slowly, a finger enters the boy, careful to be gentle. Morty lets out a long whine, squirming beneath Rick's hands.

Rick continues to whisper comforting words to his grandson, allowing him to get used to something inside of him. He feels Morty's muscles relax and begins to pump his finger in and out, curling the digit occasionally to help stretch him out. Soon he's adding a second finger, and not long after, a third. By that point, the boy is a shuddering, whimpering mess.

"Oh-  _ oh geez _ \- Rick!" He cries with pleasure, and Rick smiles, having found the teen's prostate, and he enjoys the moans he's able to drag from the body underneath him.

Rick suddenly removes his fingers, and a strangled cry of frustrated disappointment leaves Morty, who he quickly soothes.

"Don't worry baby, Granpa's here, I'm gonna take care of you," he murmurs into the writhing boy's ear. 

Rick squirts more lube into his hand, quickly coating himself with it. He then lines up the head of his cock to the boy's hole, and groans when he feels Morty grind down on him, trying to speed things along. He takes hold of Morty's hips, and presses slowly into his heat. Morty continues to grind down on his length, trying desperately to take the man into himself. He whines and tears prick his eyes, a mixture of desperation and a hint of pain. The stretch burns, but he enjoys it. Revels in it, even. Because pain is a part of Rick, nothing with Rick is easy and softness is a rarity, but that's part of the fun.

The tender moments are what he lives for, they make every ounce of pain worth it. And Morty wants every fucking piece of Rick.

"Goddamn, baby, you sure are eager," Rick says, his words lacking the usually mocking tone. In fact they come out strained and guttural, a testament to how hard he's trying to be gentle for his boy's first time. He bites his lip as he continues to press in, millimeter by agonizingly delicious millimeter. 

Morty pushes back, pressing Rick's dick further into his ass. It isn't long before Rick is wrapped entirely by Morty's tight hole. Morty whines and mewls and rolls his hips, not caring about adjusting to the newly introduced cock that's basically spearing him. Tears roll down his cheeks and Rick lets out a low growl at the sight.

"Oh fuck,  _ Moooorty _ ," he groans, leaning down to lick away the salty tears.

" _ Rick! _ " Morty cries in response, grinding into the man above him. "Oh god, please- Rick!- oh Christ- I want it so fucking  _ bad! _ "

Rick kisses Morty, effectively shutting him up. His voice is beginning to drive him wild, and the last thing he wanted to do was make his boys first time painful. Or, more accurately, bad. If the boy wanted a bit of pain, Rick would be happy to oblige.

He sets a steady pace, not slow but far from fast. He can tell from the way that Morty pushes back that he wants more, but Rick doesn't want to make their first time bloody. And isn't that a thought.

Their  _ first _ time. That this one moment has opened a door to many more times. Oh, the things Rick wants to do to the boy… the things Morty wants in return.

Rick breaks the kiss to allow them both a breath, but it seems Morty doesn't need it, because the moment Rick's lips aren't keeping his own occupied, he is blabbering and whining and begging for  _ more. _

"Please, Rick! Oh my  _ god _ , please!  _ Faster, Granpa Rick- _ "

And Rick complys. How could he possibly say no to his baby begging him like that? He pumps in and out of the boy quicker, his thrusts reaching deeper. Morty cries suddenly die on his tongue, his eyes shutting tightly, his jaw slack. Rick smirks, and begins to pound into the boy's prostate with lethal accuracy. 

Morty's voice finds him again, but he can no longer speak coherently, his gibberish punctuated with Rick's name. Rick coos sweetly to the boy, murmuring praises into his ear, his own sentences separated by throaty groans of pleasure.

He listens as Morty's blubbering reaches a feverish pitch, and he relishes the feeling of the boy's walls clenching and relaxing around his cock. He can tell that Morty is reaching his peak, and that sends himself closer to his own climax. He uses one hand to grab the teen's weeping prick, and the boy cums within a few rough strokes. Rick fucks the boy through his orgasm, Morty too blissed out to even be aware of it. Rick climaxes soon after, buried balls deep in his grandson. He groans obscenely as he does so, burying his face in the crook of Morty's neck. His chest heaves and presses against the teen's. 

The hand that had previously been wrapped around Morty's dick reaches up and fumbled with the belt that holds the younger's wrists. The moment Morty is released, his arms fling out and wrap around Rick's neck. He weeps into the man's sweat slicked skin, and a moment of panic fills Rick. He is terrified that Morty now regrets this. His fears are shoved aside almost the second they creep in.

"I love you, I love you, I love you so, so, so much-" Morty cries, his hold on the elder tightening while he expels his confession. 

Rick sits back, Morty following him easily, pulling himself into his grandfather's lap. He doesn't look at Rick, avoids his eyes out of fear of rejection. Rick reaches behind himself, grabbing onto Morty's arms and prying it from his back. Morty whimpers, tries to untangle himself, assuming this means that Rick doesn't want him. Rick's other hand presses firmly to the small of Morty's back, prohibiting him from backing away.

Rick examines the boy's arm, his wrists most specifically. They are red and raw, even bleeding in a few places where leather dug into skin. Rick laces his fingers with the boys and brings his wrist to his lips.

He presses gentle kisses to the worn flesh, trails over every inch of red skin.

"I love you too, baby," he whispers into the boy's wrist, his voice an almost ticklish rumble against Morty's burning skin.

They stay like that for a while, or maybe it's forever. When they find themselves at the dinner table that night, surrounded by a discontent family, they reach for each other. Morty's hand finds Rick's, and Rick's thumb runs over Morty's wrist. 

Despite it all, they smile.


End file.
